Chan Lowe: The murder trial of Michael Dunn

The murder trial of Michael Dunn

February 4, 2014|By Chan Lowe

Just as the Trayvon Martin case begins to fade, we’re cueing up its sequel — this time, the main character is Jordan Davis, a black teenager shot dead by a white man named Michael Dunn. The shooter felt that the boy and his friends were playing their music too loud as they sat in their car next to him in a gas station. And so, they had words. Dunn thought he saw one of the teens brandish a shotgun in a back seat window, and chose to defend himself from said weapon by shooting Davis dead.

Although the police never found a weapon, Dunn is claiming self-defense.

That argument is intriguing, because Dunn’s perceived threat turned out to be non-existent. Normally, self-defense in such a case might be considered a difficult legal strategy, but this is America, where skin pigmentation — to the right kind of jury — still may constitute a credible threat to one’s safety. It certainly seems so to many jurors in the Court of Public Opinion.

According to Davis’ mother, her son was thinking of enlisting in the military. He didn’t do drugs, alcohol, and didn’t associate with the wrong kind of people. They were, as she said, “coming from the mall. They were being kids.” Dunn, in a letter written from jail to a TV reporter, called Davis and his friends “thugs.”

Whatever argument Dunn uses to try to exculpate himself from his act that day, the fact is that he had a deadly weapon in his possession, and his judgment about whether he needed to use it was apparently faulty. It’s a good bet that had he not had his pistol with him, Dunn would probably have merely cursed at the youths for playing their loud music and moved on. A life would have been spared. Gun or no gun, Dunn would have survived the encounter.

Jordan Davis’ mother has — through a monumental spiritual effort — forgiven the man who slew her son, even though there has been no apology, and she doesn’t expect one. She knows that not to forgive only increases her burden of grief, and she must free herself from the clutches of vengeful thinking in order to find some meaning in her son’s death.

As for Dunn, his jury is being impaneled. That eventual collection of American citizens — bringing their own set of values and fears to the proceedings — will decide on behalf of The People if he should pay for his act or be set free.

Dunn’s attorneys will try to prove that, in his state of mind, he was truly afraid that four teenagers, sitting in a car and listening to loud music on the radio, constituted a threat to his life.

What a sorry state for a mind to be in. How many more sequels like this one are we willing to watch?